Enough
by PeaceLoveTea
Summary: Edmund always admired and adored Mr. Pevensie, but Peter knew the truth about their father. Rated T for mature themes. Oneshot.


**Title: **Enough

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Pevensies, they belong to C.S. Lewis. I don't own the lyrics, either. They're from "Face Down" by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. (Great band)

**A/N: **For a month or two my computer's been down because it was struck by lightning. So we've finally had it fixed, and this is just a short drabble I wrote around 2 in the morning. I don't really like it, but I haven't written anything in a month, so… Go easy on the reviews, please.. Thanks (:

Oh, and it's meant to be a bit AUish.. I don't think this would really happen.. But, then again, you never know...

* * *

_Do you feel like a man __  
__When you push her around? __  
__Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground? _

"Ready or not, here I come!"

The words rang through the forest as a young Peter Pevensie crawled further into the bushes pushed up against the wall of his home. "He'll never find me here," he whispered to himself, referring to his little brother, who was 'seeking' all of them. Grinning to himself, he leaned against the brick wall and settled in directly below the window sill.

Moments passed. Long, boring moments.

Peter sighed, pulling the pine needles from the bushes in silent boredom. _"Sure is taking Eddy a long time,"_ he thought to himself, resting his chin in his palm. Suddenly muffled shouts reached his ears and interrupted his thoughts. Narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips together, he got to his knees and peered over the windowsill into his kitchen. It was there that he saw his mother and father.

His father was yelling, a look of anger frozen on his face. His mother looked scared, but not terrified. Just... helpless? Peter stared on in confusion, forgetting all about the game he had been playing before.

The yells weren't understandable, but he could tell there was a furious tone to them. What could his father possibly be so angry about? Suddenly, to his horror and surprise, his father lifted a fist and struck his mother across the face. The young boy let out a cry of shock before slapping his hand over his mouth and ducking beneath the window sill. He still wasn't quite sure what he had just seen, but he did know he wasn't supposed to see it.

While he was still replaying the scene in his mind, trying to figure out why his father would do something like that, his brother burst through the bushes.

"Aha! Found you!" the eight year old Edmund yelled, laughing as he did so.

"Hush! Get down!" Peter whispered in a harsh voice, pulling his brother to the ground.

A look of both confusion and anger spread across the younger boy's face. "What'd you do that for?" he squeaked, narrowing his brown eyes in defiance.

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but closed it soon after. He couldn't tell his little brother what he had seen. Eddy loved and adored their father too much. No, this would have to be a secret. He wasn't going to tell anyone. "Have you found Susan and Lucy yet?" Peter asked, changing the subject quickly and crawling out of the bushes. He pushed the occurrence to the back of his mind, but he knew it would be impossible to forget.

-----------------------------------------------------

_Cover up with make up in the mirror __  
__Tell yourself it's never gonna happen again __  
__You cry alone and then he swears he loves you_

Eyelids fluttered open to reveal twinkling blue eyes, reflected by the moonlight shining through the window. With a yawn, thirteen year old Peter swung his feet out from underneath the covers and onto the hardwood floor. His sleepy gaze flicked to his sleeping brother for a moment before he stood up and walked out into the hallway, his tired feet dragging as he went.

He approached the stairwell, intending to get a glass of water, but quiet sobs coming from the bathroom further down the hall stopped him in his tracks. Narrowing his eyes in confusion, he approached the bathroom quietly, peeking in the cracked door. His mother stood there, quietly sobbing and wiping away her tears with a washcloth. Peter stood still for a moment, wondering what to do, until finally he pushed the door open a bit further and stood in the doorway.

"Peter?" his mother sniffled, obviously trying to hide the fact that she had been crying. "What are you doing up?"

"I..I wanted a glass of water, and I heard crying," he stuttered, still a bit bewildered. However, upon seeing the large bruise that was forming on her cheek, a sudden realization came over him. His eyes grew wider, remembering back to what he had seen on that day almost two years ago. Had his Father done this?

Mrs. Pevensie noticed her son's discomfiture and quickly covered the bruise on her face with the washcloth. "Well go back to bed. I'll bring you a glass of water from the kitchen," she said, ushering him out of the bathroom and back into the hallway.

Peter obeyed, returning back the way he had come. His fists were clenched, however, at the thought of his father striking his mother. He still had no idea what had caused it, but he was determined not to let it happen again. The respect he once had for his father was gone, replaced by a silent hatred. He climbed into his bed, careful not to wake Edmund, though he knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep for a long while. His glass of water never came.

-------------------------------------------------

_A pebble in the water makes a ripple effect __  
__Every action in this world will bear a consequence __  
__If you wade around forever you will surely drown __  
__I see what's going down_

The entire family stood in the front sitting room, surrounding Mr. Pevensie. Tears were rolling down everyone's eyes; all except for the oldest two men. Peter stood near the back of his family, hands in his pockets, a defiant glare firmly held. He wouldn't cry, because truth be told, he was glad his father was leaving. In his mind, this was his father's punishment. He saw what his father was capable of, saw what he was willing to do, and in his opinion, life would be better with his father gone.

Edmund, however, did not feel the same way.

Tears rolled down the young boy's face as he embraced his father, willing him not to go, but knowing that the older man would have to go to war. He had been drafted, after all. And Edmund hated it. He hated that his father was leaving, hated that the war was starting, and hated that his brother didn't even care. Because Edmund saw it. He saw the hatred in Peter's eyes, the enmity that was so carefully hidden. And he would never forgive his brother for it.

---------------------------------------

_Face down in the dirt she says,  
__This doesn't hurt  
__She says, I finally had enough.._

Peter stands in the train station, surrounded by throngs of people, most saying their goodbyes. He stares at his mother, and she stares back, and in that moment he knows. He knows nothing will be the same when they come back; he sees it in his mother's eyes. She's had enough; they won't be coming home to a loving mother and father. Only a mother.

"Take care of them, Peter," she whispers as she embraces him. Five simple words, but they mean so much more. Because Peter is the only one they have left. Her oldest son will have to take the place of her husband, and she knows Peter won't disappoint her like his father did.


End file.
